


Fate Hath Intervened

by Darthkvzn



Category: RWBY, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Death, Co-Written, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pyrrha as the new Doctor Fate, Pyrrha dies in Remnant and gets reborn on Earth, Young Justice Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthkvzn/pseuds/Darthkvzn
Summary: Pyrrha Nikos - native of Mistral, prospective Huntress, and heir-intended of the Fall Maiden's power - dies, aged seventeen.And yet, by some strange turn of fate, it is not the end of her story; as she wakes to a world of costumed heroes and nefarious villains, Pyrrha finds herself drawn to the Helmet of Fate - and the start of a new adventure.(a collaboration with ZRStein!)
Kudos: 13





	1. An End and a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to my first ever collab! I recently befriended a fellow fanfic author, ZRStein (he's not on AO3, but you can look him up on FFnet!), and in chatting about our mutual love for Young Justice and RWBY, we came up with this fun little crossover idea.
> 
> Basically, Pyrrha dies on Remnant and gets reborn on Earth as the new host of Doctor Fate.
> 
> Updates are probably gonna be pretty slow - I have a ton of ongoing projects and ZR doesn't write that much these days - but we have a lot of cool concepts we'd like to explore, so look forward to that! Hope you enjoy!

The legends lied, it turns out.

There’s no peaceful drifting away, no fade-to-black as death takes hold of her. Her hands and feet are numb, to be sure, but the shooting pain through her heel has not dulled, and the last, desperate throes of her ravaged heart seem to burn a hole in her chest.

Her vision is blurry, but she can plainly see her killer’s smug face as she places a hand to her head, charged with the corrupted power of the Maiden. Every cell in her body howls as her body  _ glows, _ a moment away from incineration. She’d scream in agony, but her voice, even if she could find it, could never translate the level of pain she experiences as her final moment.

Pyrrha Nikos - native of Mistral, prospective Huntress, and heir-intended of the Fall Maiden’s power - dies, aged seventeen.

And yet, by some strange turn of fate, it is not the end of her story.

* * *

_ Mount Justice _

_ August 20, 13:36 EDT _

Only Robin is at Mount Justice when it happens.

The others are out, enjoying the quaint diversions Happy Harbor has to offer after their harrowing encounter with Klarion, the Witch Boy. He’s not exactly sorry to have missed that one - sure, he likes his villains crazy, but not  _ that  _ crazy.

So he has the whole place to himself - even Tornado is out, doing  _ whatever  _ a  _ robot man from the fifties _ does - which naturally means he’s at the gym, twirling around the suspended hoops, when the Cave’s electrical grid gets seemingly overloaded and goes completely out, the acrid scent of ozone drifting into the room. Dick immediately dons the domino mask with practiced ease, grabs his utility belt, and tries to track down the source of the malfunction.

It’s...a  _ girl. _

She’s lying under the holographic projector, surrounded by what seems to be carbon scoring, dressed in some kind of leather armor, trimmed with gold and crimson. He slowly approaches, but there’s little need for caution - the girl is out, utterly unmoving. If Dick hadn’t just taken her  _ extremely  _ weak pulse, he’d think her dead.

The girl is older than him, at least a few years. Taller than anyone on the team, too, and about as physically fit as Superboy himself. Faint scars all over her body betray a life fraught with battle - and her armor, torn and singed in places, tells him some of it was  _ very  _ recent. A patch of dried blood surrounds some kind of recent puncture wound on her chest, the flesh still tender, an angry shade of red. Closer examination reveals a similar injury on her heel, as well as several minor cuts, abrasions, and contusions.

Robin is  _ stumped. _ Where could she have come from? From the looks of the redhead, he’d almost assumed her to be an Amazon, but her armor bears none of Themyscira’s iconography, even if the style is similar enough. He figures her sudden appearance is linked to the power fluctuations, but a quick check of the Cave’s systems - most notably, the Zeta tubes - reveals no technical anomalies, no evidence of foul play.

He’s about to call the incident in when her eyes open. For the briefest of moments, her eyes glow golden, inciting a sort of primal fear Robin is used to  _ inducing,  _ not suffering, but the glow subsides into beautiful, bright green irises. 

The stranger takes the deepest breath Robin’s ever heard, and bolts upright, easily pushing him out of the way. She looks around, wildly, eyes filled with both fear and anger, before settling on him.

“Uh...hi?” -he says, awkwardly. 

She barks something at him - not English, but something that sounds  _ vaguely _ like something Kaldur might say in his sleep - and he winces, unable to parse it, much less answer. Bruce is gonna  _ kill _ him - he should  _ totally  _ know basic Atlantean by now. 

But she  _ isn’t  _ Atlantean, either - no gills on her neck, for one, but also the way her muscles move, lacking the tightly packed density necessary to survive the crushing depths - so he settles back on assuming she’s related to the Amazons.

He goes for the  _ Tarzan _ approach, putting a hand to his chest. “Robin.” -he says, as clearly as he can manage. He then gestures towards her, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in what he hopes is universal curiosity. 

The girl frowns. She repeats the word, her accent mangling it a bit. She then mirrors the gesture, and speaks. “ _ Pyrrha. _ ” -she says.

Robin tries to rack his brain, hoping he’s heard that name before, but he definitely hasn’t. It  _ does _ sound vaguely Grecian, though, which he adds to the mental file. “You look hurt.” -he notes, pointing at his chest and wincing.

She looks down and hisses, her gloved hand clutching at her chest in pain. Robin starts forward, concerned, but she shoves him away. He gasps; her eyes have once again taken on that frightening golden glow, and her pained scowl has morphed into a completely neutral expression. The stranger rises and sprints away, towards the various rooms further in the Cave. Robin’s eyes widen, alarm bells going off inside his head - he’d assumed she was just as clueless about her situation as he is, but she clearly has some kind of purpose to fulfill here. He runs after her, barely catching her slip around the corner.

“Robin to team.” -he says, tapping his ear comms. “We’ve got a situation in the Cave. Need everyone here,  _ stat. _ ”

The younger half of the Dynamic Duo follows behind the redhead, who he sees enter into the trophy room - which is  _ not actually  _ a trophy room, no matter how much Wally tries to make it happen - and stops in the doorway, frozen in place.

The girl holds the Helmet of Fate in her hands.

Robin doesn’t know that much about the Helmet’s finer details - he knows it’s magic,  _ powerful magic _ at that, and he knows it gave Doctor Fate his mighty abilities - but he  _ does _ figure it probably isn’t meant to be wielded by randomly appearing Greek-themed teenagers.

The glow in her eyes subsides as she locks eyes with the Helmet, seemingly enthralled by its vacant stare. Robin subtly grabs a birdarang and steels himself for battle, but the girl won’t even glance his way - it’s like there’s nothing else in the world but her and the object of power in her hands.

He approaches, slowly. “Hey, um...Pyrrha?” -he tries to grab her attention. “The Helmet of Fate is a  _ dangerous  _ thing. Just...put it back, please?”

_ Obviously, _ it doesn’t work - not only does Pyrrha continue to ignore him, but she actually starts lifting the Helmet above her head. Robin is about to do something  _ incredibly _ foolish - get in between the girl and the Helmet, somehow - when the familiar  _ whoosh _ of a speedster nearly blows him off-balance. Wally’s motor-mouth is  _ conspicuously  _ silent as he takes in the scene. He doesn’t even comment on how  _ gorgeous  _ the young woman is, which tells Robin just how shocked his best friend is.

“Put it down,  _ now! _ ” -Wally yells. Dick hasn’t gotten the details on their mission yet, but the fear in the speedster’s voice and eyes tells him all he needs to know. He and Wally  _ surge _ forward, but it’s too late, even for Kid Flash. A great burst of golden light pushes them  _ both  _ away, and when he blinks the spots out of his vision, he’s greeted with a sight that’s simultaneously wondrous and  _ terrifying _ .

“Oh  _ no. _ ” -Wally whispers. Robin can’t help but agree.

In Pyrrha’s place now stands a female incarnation of Doctor Fate; it’s all there, the cape, the royal blue bodysuit, the golden belt, bracers, greaves, and  _ ankh- _ engraved medallion on her chest. Flowing red hair falls down her back, magically freed from its ponytail, and her once vibrant green eyes coldly stare down at them from between the narrow, scowling slits of the Helmet, her pupils reduced to nigh-inhuman pinpricks.

“ **THE TIME OF CHAOS IS ENDED.** ” -her voice booms, Pyrrha’s tone almost entirely overshadowed by the triumphant Lord of Order that inhabits the Helm. “ **DOCTOR FATE HAS RETURNED.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> ZR didn't want me to plug anything :c berate him in the comments for me, will ya?
> 
> Until next time!


	2. The Helmet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha awakens to a void beyond time and space, a floating gold helmet, and the voice of a god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Hope you enjoy!

_ The Watchtower _

_ August 21, 11:00 EST _

Bruce works his jaw, reminding himself not to grit his teeth together for the umpteenth time. He’s glad Alfred’s not here to stare disapprovingly - he’s already been put on notice  _ numerous _ times for the bad habit. It is, after all, really bad for his teeth - the dwindling number of natural ones his chosen path has left him with, at any rate.

A month and a half. Forty-three days exactly. It has only been forty-three days since they put this operation together, and the security of the cave has already been compromised twice. Three times, if he includes the Mister Twister incident.

Bruce made known his misgivings about using the mountain, mainly that its location was known to the Joker, and whomever else among their enemies the Mad Clown had spilled to. The other members of the League had raised several good points in opposition, of course; Mount Justice was highly defensible, already constructed and furnished, and no one would think to look in a location that had already been compromised. Two days of work and the mountain had been made ready for the team, and they had been so  _ happy  _ that Bruce had forced himself to bury his doubts in a secret corner of his heart.

The G-Gnome that had found its way into Mount Justice on the first day was...excusable. It was friendly and wanted to see Superboy, and had been returned to Cadmus - the newly reformed version of - with minimal fuss. (Which reminds him; he needs to look into Cadmus’ less savory operations whenever he has the time.)

The Mister Twister incident was also excusable, if only barely. The android was not in Happy Harbor by chance, so clearly someone (T.O. Morrow? Possible, though he’d be a hundred years old by now) knew that Mount Justice was in use once again. The only reason Bruce hadn’t argued to shut the mountain down once again was that Twister had never made it inside the base.

But now...Bruce stares down at the screen in front of him, eyes narrowing. On it, the cave’s cameras show the empty mission room. Empty, that is, until a bright glow forms in midair, coruscating strips of golden fire lashing grooves into the floor before converging into an  _ ankh  _ symbol. A girl falls out. A girl with red hair, bronze armor, who had, by all accounts, recently been stabbed through the chest and ankle. A girl who speaks some form of  _ not-quite-Greek _ , according to Robin, and who moves as if in a trance to don the Helmet of Fate. A girl who boldly becomes Nabu’s avatar and declares herself his new host, then removes the Helmet and promptly faints afterwards, and who is now resting off the rest of her strange healing trance in the cave’s infirmary.

They know nothing at present except what little they could glean from the cameras and Robin’s report. Bruce hates being in the dark - he hates it even more when his lack of knowledge directly impacts his family. All he knows is the Cave was breached. The security systems failed utterly.

This will not stand. One way or another, he  _ will  _ ensure the safety of those under his care, whatever it takes.

* * *

_ Realm of Fate _

_ Void Outside of Time _

Pyrrha floats in a pool of...water? Some kind of liquid that’s neither warm nor cold. She opens her eyes, and gasps.

The sky above is endless, and full of stars. Gold, white, every color of the rainbow, swirling around her in an endless, iridescent dance. Pyrrha stands up and turns, trying to take it all in. Strange; her dreams usually aren’t like this at all, bizarre and wondrous and ever so slightly unnerving. She usually dreams of fighting - blurry, vibrant flashes of gunfire, unleashed dust, glinting blades - only recently has anything more defined featured. Only recently had she dreamed of the friends she’d made in JNPR. Of  _ Jaune. _

**THIS IS NO DREAM, PYRRHA NIKOS**

Pyrrha eyes widen, her hands instinctively reaching for weapons that aren’t there.

**CALM YOURSELF. YOU ARE IN NO DANGER**

A golden helmet forms in the empty space in front of her. It burns with a light that she can’t see, her skin rippling with the sheer feeling of power that the Helmet gives off. She backs away a step and holds a hand in front of her face as if to shield herself.

“Who...or, what...are you?”

**I HAVE MANY NAMES. I AM NABU. I AM FATE. I AM POWER MANIFEST. I AM A LORD OF ORDER, AND I AM HERE TO OFFER YOU A DEAL.**

Pyrrha’s breath quickens, and she swallows roughly. Her mind goes to the fairy tales her mother had told to her, and ones that she’d read when her mother was not around. Tales of desperate people, of consequences unseen, of honeyed words and sharp teeth and endings that made her cry when she was a little girl.

Similar, she feels, to the circumstances that brought her here.

“A deal? Why would I make a deal with you?” Pyrrha said, fighting to keep her voice steady. She was the Invincible Girl, wasn’t she? She would stand her ground even against this...this  _ Lord of Order,  _ whatever that meant.

**YOU FIGHT THE MEMORIES. YOU FORGET YOUR FATE**

To the side of the Helmet, Pyrrha sees a window open up, and a scene plays. Her and the woman,  _ Cinder, _ fighting to the death. The arrow that pierced her ankle.  _ The arrow that pierced her heart. _

“ _...oh. _ ” That’s right. She’d been killed.

She’d  _ died. _

Pyrrha puts a hand to her mouth, feeling ill. She’d died.  _ She’d died _ . Beacon had fallen, Penny was dead by her hand, Jaune had been shot out over the city, his fate unknown, and  _ she’d failed, _ been killed by the Maiden’s murderer.

Her tears are hot and heavy as they fall. She doesn’t know how long she cries - perhaps a mere moment of sorrow, perhaps an eternity - only that when she’s done, the Helmet is still there, staring down at her. It seems smaller now, less foreboding. Like a god stepped down to mingle with mortals.

**Are you ready to talk now, child?**

The voice is softer - still booming with power, but not quite as much as before. Pyrrha sniffs, trying to clear her nose and says “My name is not  _ child. _ ”

**Very well. Are you ready to talk, Pyrrha Nikos?**

“About your deal?” Pyrrha asked. “I assume this deal has something to do with...my death.”

**Indeed. I am seeking a host.**

“A...host?”

**The Realm we are in exists outside of time and space. My essence, divine as it is, is bound to the Helmet you see before you. Whosoever puts on my Helmet melds with me, gaining my tremendous mystic power and knowledge. In exchange, I am able to act on the physical plane, to battle the forces of CHAOS, DARKNESS, AND EVIL THAT WOULD SEE EXISTENCE ITSELF SNUFFED OUT.**

Pyrrha winces at the wrathful energy coming off of the Helmet. After a moment, though, the fearsome golden glow dims, and Nabu resumes speaking.

**It has been many long years since I have had a host. My previous host, the sorcerer Kent Nelson, refused to wear my Helmet for 65 years, and he died but one day ago. There is another child, by the name of Wally West, who has been tasked with finding a replacement for me...but I have seen into his mind. He does not believe, and he does not consider the seriousness of the duty I asked of him. I fear that, left to his devices, he will delay, forget, or worse, use me only as a weapon of last resort.**

Pyrrha blinks slowly, still struggling to fully process everything that’s happening to her.

“So...what do you want from me? You want me to be your host? Would I return to Remnant?” Pyrrha asks, hope coloring her voice.

**No. Not on Remnant.**

With those words, Pyrrha’s hopes crashed and burned to the ground.

**At least, not for a time. I am needed on Earth and beyond, to combat enemies such as Klarion the Witch Boy and other allies of CHAOS. And...I do not know how to return you to Remnant at the present time.**

Pyrrha tilts her head back and asks “But...you pulled me from Remnant, didn’t you?”

**No. I found your soul just outside of my own plane of existence. How you arrived at a location so distant from your own dimension, I do not know. However...given time, I am confident I can trace your origin back to whence you came.**

Pyrrha breaths in, deeply, before she straightens her spine and looks straight at the Helmet.

“I’m assuming being returned to Remnant, or indeed you expending any effort into finding Remnant in the first place, is conditional on me serving as your host?”

**Yes. The world needs Doctor Fate. Your death was tragic, and I mourn for the difference you might have made in your world. But I cannot expend valuable time and energy to perform a good deed for nothing in return, not when ORDER itself hangs in the balance.**

Pyrrha’s lips thin, and she clenches her fingers.

“How long...would I have to be your host for...in order to earn my  _ ticket  _ back to Remnant?” Pyrrha asks, the question tasting like ash in her mouth.

The Helmet is silent for a long moment, as if pondering her terms.

**I will not hold you to a standard that I did not hold Kent Nelson to. Five years, Pyrrha Nikos. No more, and no less. You will not be required to wear the Helmet permanently during the time you spend as my host, but you should know that I will not be able to find your home without being present on the physical plane. You are also not required to wear the Helmet into battle. I know you are a great Huntress, that you have faith in your abilities. But the powers of Fate are vast indeed, and I would strongly urge you to make use of them in your battles against the enemies of Order.**

Pyrrha relaxes slightly. The terms are more generous than she was expecting - fairer, she supposes, than the ones Ozpin had her agree to, if only just.

**That is my offer to you, Pyrrha Nikos. If you refuse, I will see your soul off to the afterlife. I will even allow you to pick which one, within reason, as a gesture of good faith.**

**If you accept, you will serve for five years as Doctor Fate. You will fight the forces of CHAOS, defend the world, and save lives. Yes, it will not be on your homeworld of Remnant. But if you accept and serve faithfully, I swear to you that I will use all the knowledge I possess to find your home. One day, you** **_will_ ** **return.**

Pyrrha closes her eyes, thinking. Five years is...a  _ long  _ time. A long time to be away from her friends, her mother...a long time to be away from  _ Jaune _ . Chances are, he will have moved on by the time she returns. Part of her wanted to just move on as well, accept her death with dignity, not extend it out by forming a pact with this Fate being.

But the other part of her...is not what Fate offered, what she herself had always dreamed of? To save the world? True, it was not  _ her  _ world, but it  _ was  _ a world nonetheless. She had thought that becoming a Maiden had been her destiny beckoning, but perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she was always meant for this. And even if it was five years...would she not be willing to do whatever it took for even a parting word with Jaune? With Ren and Nora, Ruby and Yang, and all of her other friends?

Pyrrha makes her choice - if it can be called a choice at all.

“I accept your deal.”

**YOU HAVE CHOSEN WELL. DON MY HELMET ON THE PHYSICAL PLANE, AND OUR CONTRACT WILL BE COMPLETE. BECOME MY AVATAR, PYRRHA NIKOS, AND I WILL** **_CHANGE YOUR FATE_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare. No worries if not!
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
